


Not Another Teen AU

by zemenipearls (ayaanle)



Category: The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Childhood Friends, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2020-12-14 00:07:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21006416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayaanle/pseuds/zemenipearls
Summary: 3 part work of modern AU Malina with a dash of other ships. Mal and Alina have been through it all together, have the type of friendship forged by fire. But when their status suddenly explodes from a viral video, how will that affect them? From Mal's POV.





	1. Chapter One

Alina and I have been playmates since we were five years old. Twelve years is a long time to know anyone, but especially to have a best friend. I couldn't imagine life without her. We grew up in the same foster home and learned to defend each other, even after we were separated. But by some freak of nature we were able to go to the same high school and from there, it was peanut butter and jelly.

Physically? Polar opposites. I’m kinda tall, kinda broad, with brown hair and blue eyes, and long dark brown hair. My only vanity. She was kind of short with brown eyes and black hair, but both of us were brown kids in a pretty white school. In her case, it was some sort of Asian. We couldn’t know for sure unless she got a DNA test done. For me, I was indigenous and taken out of tribal care against treaties, but what can you say. Life.

My beater car was probably not street legal but I still picked her up at her foster house. At least it only had six girls in it - my house for guys had at least a dozen, and it seemed to rotate every week. We counted down the days until we could leave this shit hole town, go to college, make our own way.

“Hey Lina,” I waved, and leaned over to open the passenger door. The outside handle broke off at some point in time last year and I hadn’t figured out the string jimmy yet. 

We rolled into the parking lot on a prayer and wish, barely making it to the free breakfast before school. She let me cheat off of her math homework while I helped her with geography. 

“Plans after school Mal?” She asked, as she traded her orange juice for my milk. The shitty free breakfast always tasted like over-processed garbage but at least we ate garbage together.

“I got track and field practice. You?”

“Detention.”

“What did you do this time?”

“You mean what _didn’t_ I do.” Right on cue she wrinkled her nose, a habit I knew by heart. “I didn’t turn in my guardian-signed academic probation letter.”

“Lina, you’re smart as fuck. Its just too crazy at home. We can go to the library or something instead.”

She shrugged and we promised to meet up and talk about it later. There was no question I would wait for her to be done with detention. I had a feeling the only reason I was passing all my classes anyway was because I was pretty great at track and field. Schools were always willing to pass the brown athlete, it looked good in photographs for the school website. But it was awkward.

I barely made it to first period in time, and handed in my just-passable history assignment on the French-Indian war. 

History was one of the only classes we didn’t have together, and it was agony. We were the “bussed-in” kids - the slices of ghetto carved out of the city to go to the suburbs so everyone could talk about their diverse student population. Full of Brads, Chads, Aidens, and Cadens. Their parents donated enough money to the PTA to get them all the best resources, and they drove reliable cars every morning, never getting lost thanks to their newest-generation phones.

P.E. was next, and I hung in the back with Alina. She wasn’t the most physical part of our dynamic duo but I would rather take a ding on my grade than be alone with the rest. Some people like Michael were tolerable but it wasn't the same.

“Wanna hear the tea?” she asked, putting her hair up in a scrunchie.

I jogged in place. “Definitely.”

“We just got a new student teacher in European History. He’s super intense and I can’t take anything he says seriously.” She gave a derisive chuckle that made me laugh. Dry wit and sarcasm, two of the Alina things I loved. She was gangly and thin and maybe didn’t fit European standards of beauty, but that was fine. Europe was overrated. But I loved her - after all, she was my best friend.

“What’s his name?” I asked.

“He goes by Mr. Aleks. With a k-s. Who does that?”

“You’re one to talk, Miss Starkov. Sounding like an off-brand Iron Man.”

“Oh yeah Mr. Oretsev?”

We often theorized about our decidedly Russian sounding last names. Alina at least was Asian, and through research we learned about Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan, and that made sense. But for me? Who knew. Mal Oretsev was a terrible name, and made me sound like a villain in a Bond movie. Especially when Mal meant "bad" in so many languages.

"Maybe we can bond with him over our Eastern European-ness."

"Starkov! Oretsev! Pick up the pace!" Shouted our gym teacher. We did for a couple minutes until she looked away, and then slowed down again. Alina flipped off the teacher and I snorted. 

After school we sloughed over to the public library, trying to make sense of all the homework before curfew. The teachers all said there wasn't that much homework, but never seemed to understand we didn't have enough time for "not that much homework" from six classes, and group homes were a fucking loud mess. Too loud and cramped to focus on anything. 

At night we texted and sent memes to each other until someone fell asleep. We didn't try to sneak out anymore, since we got caught too many times and we had an embarrassing lecture from the social worker about teen pregnancy even though we weren't having sex.

In the morning we woke up and did it all over again. 

Beater car, shitty processed free breakfast, copying off each other's homework. 

Then we had the Worst Thing Ever. The pep rally. Between the cheerleaders and the nauseating class president Nik, who's very existence made my teeth grit. It's not that he was particularly an asshole. But he was the embodiment of rich white male privilege, who's parents owned entire city blocks and displaced people like me and Alina. He knew _everybody_. 

The valedictorian and objectively beautiful ASB vice president was Zoya. She was kinda brown too but the brown that white people like - not too dark, not too ethnic features, blue eyes, looks like a model. The kind that National Geographic photographers climb over themselves to take pictures of. 

Pep rallies were the bane of my existence, and I didn't see the point. School pride for a bunch of people I never hoped to see again, while our classmates discreetly vaped overpriced juuls on the bleachers? Kill me.

Alina and I watched with disinterest as we wasted our potential time learning anything while cheerleaders, baseball players, and teachers talked about upcoming events, staying positive, and had a bunch of skits that got a couple chuckles out of me. At least Zoya looked like she didn't enjoy anything. Ever.

Then there was a reminder about not drinking and driving and being careful on spring break. As if Alina and I were doing anything. All it meant was being vagrants walking around the city finding places to hang out that didn't cost money and wouldn't kick us out. People watching at the mall was alright until security started following me. The library was quiet. So we ended up sitting on park benches or walking in the safer areas. Again, until the rent a cops asked if we were casing.

We were out by my car behaving like delinquents when Alina nodded. "That's Mr. Aleks."

He didn't seem like anything special. Dark hair. Pale skin. The slightest definition of a jaw that meant half the girls were checking him out, and a few dudes too. I didn't get the appeal, but at least Alina didn't either. Not that it mattered. We were just best friends, and our friendship was why I couldn't see a life of mine that she wasn't a part of. 

Long, pale, and brunette looked over at us, nodding at Alina before getting in his weirdly nice car. 

"What was that about?"

"No idea."

I put my foot on the side of my car and wedged the door open when someone stepped in front of us.

"Mal! Alina."

"Nik." I replied. Of course I knew Nikolai, or Nik. Everyone did. He ran an O.K. 1500 but he didn't have to be good when he was sure to get into and afford any school he wanted. 

"Good to see you guys!" Was it really? "So over spring break I'm having a party at my place. Would love to see you guys there. The usual. Alcohol, mild drugs, no parental supervision. You two should come." 

"Should we?" I asked. Alina elbowed me. I promise I wasn't trying to be a dick but it was also hard to take him seriously with his probably $80 haircut that was floofy and longer on top and shorter on the side, and inexplicably expensive t-shirt because it had a logo on it. Alina and I dressed more grungey but that was because we went to thrift stores and made do with what came in our sizes. 

"Of course! I'll text you guys the info."

My phone vibrated. I didn't even know he had my number. 

Spring break went exactly as we thought. I got two scholarship offers for athletics, and we researched the cost of living in each area. It didn't look good. But the foster cut off was fast approaching, so I fought off anxiety by walking around aimlessly, and picked up some extra shifts at work. So did Alina.

The day of the party I went over to her group home. We weren't allowed to be behind any closed doors, so we sat on the steps eating hot cheetoes and gossiping about nonsense, and them she braided my hair for me. White girls always wanted to braid my hair but I only ever let Alina. And she was pretty good at it.

Alina liked to joke that she wasn't good at anything, but that wasn't true. She was pretty funny in her deadpan way, and could throw down in a fight. She was street smart - could analyze social dynamics and spot a plainclothes cop from 2 miles away. She was resourceful and kind and somehow decided to stick by me. But we just didn't have the support to make something out of it. 

She wore an oversized sweatshirt she turned into a crop, and denim shorts with beat up chucks, and a scrunchie held her hair in a high ponytail. I loved it. Very nineties. The standards of dress were much lower for me so I had well worn jeans, matching beat up chucks, and a plain white shirt. 

I shoved my insecurities down my throat when we arrived. These people lived a mile from the closest bus stop in a gated community, and I was already regretting it. We would have to catch a Lyft home, after letting our guardians know we would be out late. 

It was like the entire senior class and some juniors were attending - of course Nik had the biggest house in a sea of giant houses. Seeing the shock on my face, Alina nudged me. "His parents own this place and built all the houses." That made me feel some type of way. But we went in anyway, seeing what life was like for the other half. 

Marijuana was drifting through the air like they knew the cops wouldn't get called, and the alcohol was free flowing. We went into the kitchen and made drinks. I knew what she liked and poured some raspberry vodka with sprite and crushed a lime. Raspberries were her favorite and somewhere along the way, they became my favorite. 

"We need to befriend him," Alina said. "He has a pool. Everyone likes you. Please be his friend." 

"Oh shit," I said, reconsidering my position on tolerating him in larger doses. Maybe she was right. People liked me, but that didn't mean they knew me at all. 

We milled about making small talk, but never too far from each other. We were like two planets going in and out of each other's orbits. Or however space worked. 

"I can't figure you two out," a voice said. I looked over to see Zoya looking me up and down. She had what could only be described as bedroom eyes. Thick lashes and hooded, the bright blue standing out against her light brown skin. She was also in a completely sheer tank top with a blue bra underneath and skinny jeans. It was unsettling how hot she was. 

"What do you mean?" I asked, trying not to pay attention to how frankly she looked at me. 

"Is Alina your girlfriend?"

"No." I mean, I could see how people thought that. When we were little we shared a bed secretly, because I was scared of the dark, and she whispered stories about viciously murdering anything that threatened me. "She's just my person."

"Your person?"

"Yeah you know." I motioned with my hand, careful not to spill my drink. "Person. Always there. Constant."

"Sounds intense," she said, glancing at Alina. I tried to see what Zoya saw. 

An average Asian girl. Her face wasn't particularly round or angular. She had some crooked teeth and she didn't like to show them when she smiled, but I thought it gave her character. It's not like mine were much better. But all I could see was Alina (everything we went through and the love I felt for my Person) Starkov. 

"Yeah well, what can you do," I muttered into my cup. "What do you want Zoya?"

She rolled her eyes and walked away, leaving me no better for that interaction. 

"What did she want?" Alina said, walking over to me. 

I put my arm around her shoulder out of habit, putting my head on hers. "Asked if we were dating."

"Oh my god, was Zoya Nazyablahblah trying to see if you're single?"

"What? No." Ludicrous. Plus, she hung out with the Nik crowd. Guys with everything. 

"What? Yes."

I playfully pushed her away and we walked around, making small talk with other people and talking about them. 

When it started getting late and closer to our extended curfew, we decided to head out. Walking through the fancy neighborhood with our elbows linked, we decided to go closer to the bus stop. There was a bodega near there where we could get more food.

We split off into two, running our usual shit. I'm not proud of it but we only stole some candy bars and chips, nothing people would miss. I chatted with the man at the counter, a bored hipster type, while Alina went down the aisles getting goodies. 

The door suddenly banged open and I instinctively dove back into the aisle. A man was holding a handgun, face covered by a ski mask. 

"Fuck," I whispered, pulling Alina behind me. We crouched together as I looked around. I grabbed a candy bar and motioned at Alina to take it. The nice part about best friends? We didn't need words. I went to the other side of the aisle while the gunman swore up a storm, demanding cash. Heart racing, I waited until Alina chucked a king size Reeses down the aisle, where it clattered against the magazine display. 

Adrenaline coursed through me, my track instincts kicking in. I sprinted and tackled the gunman, and chaos erupted. The man was surprised but strong, and my vision exploded when his fist hit my nose. 

"Get off of him!" Alina screamed, and I saw her use the fallen gun, aiming it at his head. She was shaking, and there was a fire in her eyes I've never seen before. I shoved the man off of me while he was distracted, and Alina kicked his head. She gave the gun to the store owner and we grabbed our bags, running until Alina had to stop.

Safely away from the crime scene, I pulled her against me. We were both shaking, and her arms were tight on me. 

"Holy shit," I finally managed to breathe. "What was that?"

"I think we're superheroes now," she gasped


	2. Chapter 2

We made it back to our homes, texting until I fell asleep with my phone on my chest. We decided it was better not to tell anyone what happened. After all, we had committed a crime too and we didn't want to risk our living situation. 

When spring break was over, it was a relief. Back to a routine, back to passing notes with Alina. 

We ate our shitty free breakfast in the Commons, watching as the popular kids walked by. Zoya, Nik, and Ginny, with their followers in tow. They glanced over at us, and I was pretty sure Zoya looked me up and down.

"She's into you, what a surprise," Alina said.

"Doubt it."

"Everyone is into you, Mal. I'm surprised you don't see it."

"Not everyone," I muttered, glancing at her. 

We were finishing up when the Upperclassmen Vice Principal came over to us. Alina froze next to me, and I reached a hand out, only pulling away when I realized what I was doing. 

"Mal, Alina." Again I was surprised he knew our names. I didn't think people paid attention outside of sporting events. It was so normal for people to say them together. It wasn't Mal and Alina. It was _MalAlina_, it sounded right. "Can you two come with me?"

We looked at each other and followed him, and I was aware of people glancing our way and whispering. Wanting to see what sort of trouble we were in. 

He asked us to sit down and my heart sank when I saw our social workers there. As usual they looked tired, distracted, and wanting to be helpful but overworked. We were in trouble. 

The VP turned his monitor around I saw on video, us in the bodega stealing chips and candy. Alina visibly flinched and I chewed my lip. 

"Listen I -" Alina started, but he held out his hand. I watched as the gunman came in and we sprung into action. We worked effortlessly together and when the gun was safely in the store owner's hands, the police arrived shortly after.

"That man owes you his life. He wanted to track down who you were and thank you personally. You aren't in trouble. You put yourselves in danger for someone you don't know."

The social workers told us they were proud of us and wanted to make sure we weren't traumatized or anything. Which, I don't know why they would be worried. It seemed like the whole being orphans thing was the first issue. They talked about how the local PD wanted me to intern with them, as if they hadn't harassed me w few weeks ago. Alina was going to get free prep work for the SAT to boost her chances of getting into college, since this was scholarship shit.

It all gave me a headache. 

But at least now we knew why people were whispering about us. 

After school, I met Alina by the gym before track. She braided my hair again quick and looped it into a bun so it would stay out of the way. 

"Tutoring start today?" I asked, stretching my arms. 

"Yeah. The new student teacher is going to do it."

"Aleks with a k?"

"Unfortunately."

"Wait for me?" I asked, trying not to sound too hopeful. 

"Always," she said.

At track I saw Nik give me a cheery wave. People were eager to talk to me, to ask me about the video. And the attention felt a little good, mostly because there wasn't that weird judgment in their eyes upperclass people have. 

"Good thing I threw that party or you wouldn't be an action movie star right now," Nik joked. 

"That's not how it works," I muttered. 

He playfully tugged at my braid and I jerked away, swearing. "Fuck man, don't do that," I said. Alina's handiwork was now asked.

"Don't worry about that. Ginny can fix it for you, even Zoya admits she's good at hair."

"Whatever." I put my focus into running, since we had a meet on Friday.

As the week went on, our popularity grew. Alina was always chatting with Mr. Mo after school in the hallway. Maybe she didn't see the way he leaned in to her. He had intense eyes and whenever he looked my way it was almost mocking, but disappeared when Alina turned to him.

"Hey runner," he said, and I frowned. I had a name. But I was currently wearing my track uniform. PETERS HIGH EAGLES was emblazoned on the front, with ORETSEV on the back. 

"Ready Alina?" I asked. She went to all my meets. We didn't have family to cheer me on so it was just her. I always knew where she was.

"Nice booty shorts," she said as usual. "It screams thot."

"So what if I am?"

"You don't need to remind me. I caught you and Desiree making out in 10th grade."

"That was one time."

"And Ashley, and Hannah, and Kia -"

"You didn't see anything, it was implied."

"Implied up their skirts."

"Are you questioning my virtue?"

She kept teasing me until I had to go warm up. It was never a big crowd, it seemed like everyone was friends with Nik, and then there were families, and then there was Alina. 

I was always pretty good at running. But when she was there, it was different. I broke records for the school district and hopefully the state. 

When my events were over I walked over to the fence, where Alina was waiting for me. She was wearing a tank top from goodwill and on it she scribbled O! RET! SEV! In messy sharpie. A smile split my face.

I leaned in and bumped my forehead lightly against hers. "My good luck charm," I told her. 

I drank an off brand sports drink when Zoya walked up to me. I nearly choked at her after school outfit - high waisted short-shorts and a drop top. The makeup eyeliner thing made her eyes pop out even more. I expected her to keep walking past and join Nik, but instead she planted herself next to Alina on the fence. 

"Hand me your phone, " she said. Shocked, I handed it over. She opened the camera and with a toss of her hair, took a selfie. "Unlock it," she ordered and for some dumb reason, I did. She entered her phone number and called herself. "Thanks." Then she handed my phone back and was gone. 

"What was that?" Alina asked. "Did you short circuit? She literally told you to unlock your phone and you _did_? How many brain cells do you have?!"

"Two, apparently." I looked back at Alina, unable to figure out the expression on her face. Her wry smile was still there. "Is it okay?"

"Your brain cells or Zoya's weird spell casting?"

"Whatever just happened with Zoya."

"Why would I care?"

"That's what I'm asking," I said.

"Are you asking me if you can hook up with Zoya?"

Heat flushed my cheeks. "Am I?"

Alina let out a long, exaggerated sigh, slumping against the fence. "Wow, I feel really concerned for your virtue but I can't blame you. But Mal, I don't own you. I think she might poison your drink but I think you two will make beautiful racially ambiguous babies."

We laughed, even if I balked at the idea. Thinking about the future was weird, all I knew was that my plans resolved around both Alina and I. But it did feel nice knowing she didn't care if I went out with Zoya.

"You know I can't afford a date with her, much less babies" I teased. "She'd probably want an Instagram nursery. I don't have that kind of color coordination."

Alina and I hung out until curfew, and discussed my scholarships. We decided on the state college - there was a community college close by Alina could go to before transferring, and cost of living wasn't atrocious. 

"Mr. Mo thinks I can turn in some late application forms and maybe I could attend too."

"Oh cool, I didn't know about all that." I didn't know very much at all about academia, the school didn't help us much at all. "We should celebrate soon. If we pool our money together we could go to a nice dinner or something."

"Yeah? Wanna get a group together?"

"Nah. Just the two of us." I smiled at her. "So what's Mo like?"

"He's smart but he's pretty weird. Keeps asking a lot about me. And you sometimes. Wants to know what being a foster kid is like. Probably feels sorry for us."

I rolled my eyes. 

As time went on and I sent in my acceptance letter, things got weirder. Mr. Mo seemed to actively seek out Alina - and one day when I was using her phone to navigate I saw that he texted her. 

"How come he has your phone number?"

"I don't know. One day he just texted me some SAT dates."

"That's really weird, Alina."

She shrugged it off but I frowned. He was like. Super old. Was he trying to hop onto the fact Alina was a local celebrity now? It didn't make sense to me. But I did trust _her_. And she trusted me, especially since Zoya invited me to "chill". Whatever that meant. I'm pretty sure I knew what it meant, but it was always best to go into these situations expecting nothing.

"He's saved as Sasha?" I asked. At least there weren't any emojis next to it.

"Look he said that's what the nickname for Aleksander is. He's the one who put it into my phone."

"What the fuck?"

"Its not a big deal."

"Its completely a big deal. He's being a pervert."

Alina rolled her eyes and groaned. "Come on. He just relates to me because we're probably from the same place."

"No! He's like 25. Why is he talking to some 17 year old?"

"We're not talking. He's tutoring me. Nothing else."

She was being defensive. But if she really felt that he wasn't doing anything weird. I had to trust it. I tucked the feeling in my stomach away. Alina was allowed to do her thing and I was allowed to do mine. Like getting ready for this date with Zoya. 

Despite the argument, Alina still braided my hair in two. "You should make a hair crown one day and put flowers in it," she commented, draping it around my forehead. "You can be a delicate maiden."

"Anything you like," I said. "Maybe on may day."

"Remember if your date goes badly you can text me and I'll call with a made up emergency." She hugged me tight from behind. "Have fun but not too much fun. Zoya will murder you if you ruin her body."

Zoya didn't live where I expected her to. I figured she lived close to where Nik did. Instead she lived not far from us. A working class immigrant neighborhood. I wasn't even sure I should knock on the door. But Zoya took the guesswork out of it by opening the door. 

She had thick, curly black hair in loose rings and clear blue eyes. They were icy, not the familiar brown warmth of Alina. She had on some sort of yoga pants that showed how nice her legs were and a crop top. "Come in," she said. 

She already seemed different than at school. Not as aggressive. The critical arch to her brow remained. "My aunt is out, if that's what you're wondering. Overnight field trip with my little cousin."

Logically Zoya had family but I never knew or heard anything. I didn't know much about anyone who wasn't Alina. "You don't live with your folks?" I asked, looking at pictures of Zoya with an older white woman, and a little white girl. They had similar eyes. 

"No." I didn't push for more explanation but she continued with a toss of her hair. "Father was deported. Mother had better things to do. Alina isn't the only sad Asian girl at school. I just dress better." She flopped onto the couch and picked up the remote. "You gonna get comfortable or what?"

There was no arguing that. Zoya was surprising, and more relatable than I thought. And after we were done relating to each other we made out on the couch. Then we went to her room and did stuff. It was a nice way to break up the monotony, and we lay in her bed scrolling our phones after. 

"How come you and Alina aren't hanging out?" She suddenly asked. 

"It might surprise you, but we aren't attached at the hip."

"Then why is she on Mr. Mo's snapchat?"

"What?"

Zoya rolled onto her stomach to show me. She replayed the snapchat story. There were selfies of him and his weird face, and in one video, it clearly showed Alina, dressed in clothes I'd never seen her in. It was short and black. She looked amazing. 

"Why do you guys even have his snapchat?"

Zoya shrugged. "He asks all the girls. I love gossip, so when I got over my stupid crush and tutoring I kept him there."

"Aren't you a straight A student?"

"Not like that. He takes you out. Introduces you to people. Makes you feel special." Zoya sniffed. "He's a bastard."

"Holy shit. Has anyone told the police?"

"His great grandfather founded this town. The police don't care. They never do." 

That made sense. He was scum. He was preying on girls in our school. Alina deserved better than his bullshit. Maybe the counselors would listen on Monday. I couldn't focus on the rest of the night, but Zoya seemed to visibly relax. I promised her I wouldn't share what she told me. She was one of us, in a weird way.

I had to help Alina. No matter what.


End file.
